Apocatastasis
by whydowefall
Summary: 'Silence. There's always silence.' Simon never rescues River.


**Title:** Apocatastasis  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Fandom:** Firefly  
**Summary: **_'Silence. There's always silence'._  
**Time Period: **AU. Simon never rescues River.  
**Word Count: **1,044  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Joss Whedon. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**

* * *

**

_**Apocatastasis**_

_By Apocatastasis ("restoration") is meant the ultimate restitution of all things, including the doctrine that eventually all persons will be saved._

_Reconciliation is not the point, however. Apocatastasis states that in the long run, people head for the same direction and/or basically just the same as the other._

_And you may go, but I know you won't leave  
Too many years built into memories_  
_Your life is not your own  
(Crestfallen - The Smashing Pumpkins)_

_**i.**_

He sees flashes of dark eyes in dreams, memories of memories that haven't been real for a long time.

Silence. There's always silence.

When Simon thinks about River, he reminds himself not to. River went away to school because she was brilliant, just like he went away to become a doctor because he was needed.

His parents were proud of their children's accomplishments.

Seven years, eight years, twelve years. He had lost track of how long ago River Tam had stopped being. It might have been a minute, or a millennia. _Tick tick tick tick._

The dark eyes he sees are in pain, and he frowns, because they remind him of something.

_**ii.**_

Serenity is just how he always pictured a Firefly class.

Dirty.

But it isn't that the ship is unclean. The floors shine and the dining room is tidy. It's the people who are crass outer-rim knockoffs, and the people who make him yearn for the sterile peacefulness of his operating room again.

Why was he here, again?

To get away from what oppressor?

Time. He wanted to make time go backwards and make himself care again.

I'm a doctor, he hears himself say to someone, do you have any need for a doctor?

The girl smiles a pretty smile and points to another man. They bargain. This is the captain of the ship, and his name is Malcolm. Simon doesn't like him from the beginning, but they agree on one thing.

They certainly did need a doctor.

It wasn't pretty work that they did here. How long was he going to be on board? The captain was edgy and brilliant, but Simon deduced within two minutes that these were smugglers, and it would get messy.

As long as it takes, captain. Simon would be edgy right back.

I have nothing to loose.

_**iii.**_

Once, he thought he saw River. They were on an inner planet, with much hesitation from the crew, and River had gone dancing by in black clothing and swords in her hands.

And then he blinked, and she was gone, and he continued on his way.

If River had been with him, she would be eighteen now, and he would feel less old. How many years _had _it been since he last saw her?

Too many.

The crew of Serenity regarded him as one of their own, now, since he was a doctor. He was important, just as important as Wash as pilot and Kaylee as mechanic, only he fixed them when they made mistakes.

There was no one there to cover his mistakes.

Kaylee loved him. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in the way she talked. And he loved her too, but not in that way, because she reminded him of River. River would look like Kaylee when she grew up.

Always happy. Full of life. Grasp on things.

Pure.

The first time they had sex it was awkward. Simon didn't do well with girls, because it had always been his education first. And there had never been time for anything other than that.

Would he still be making his father proud, his son, the doctor, having sex on the engine room floor of a Firefly?

He sometimes made himself laugh at the thought, and then Kaylee would drag his mouth back to hers.

Simon tried not to picture her as River when they kissed, and then everything was alright.

_**iv.**_

Simon wondered if he was living someone else's life. There were times when up was down and left was never right. And there were times when he wanted to die, just to keep someone else from living.

But he had to carry on. And on. And on. A broken record.

Kaylee would sing to him in his sleep. She sang about flowers, and mothers who held their sons tight, and love, and he felt whole again.

Kaylee was his everything.

He pictured River, probably somewhere with her head bent over a book. All the boys would love her, because she was beautiful. Nothing in the world would make him madder than for the boys to hate her, yet she was still his River. They couldn't touch her.

Look, but don't touch. Fragile.

River could count prime numbers to well over a million. River could list every shade of blue listed in the computer's sensors. River was a glass swan, or dove, or something equally cliché.

Whenever they stopped for the mail, he would hope for a letter from her, but nothing ever came. It was as if she had forgotten all about him.

And then he remembered that he had never written to her, either.

_**v.**_

River was cold and wet and shaking against her restraints on the floor of the storage room; Simon couldn't watch as she strains against them.

That wasn't his sister.

Random job, random planet. Simon had been on the ship for over a year now, and this was just another routine job. Go with Zoë and Mal and Jayne to the town, help heal anyone there, and while he was the distraction, they steal the credits.

It was beautiful.

Of course it had to fail.

River was fast on her feet and moved deadly. Simon still couldn't bear to take out the bullet Mal had shot into her shoulder to take her down, although he knew he should. She was dying on that floor.

That wasn't his sister.

River had been with some Alliance troops, just a routine stop between patrols, bothering the civilians for some food and paltry valuables. And she had known that Serenity was coming before they got there. She moved too fast to be human, and took Zoë out before Mal could fire once.

Animal, they all called her, and he had to agree.

Simon had known it was her only when she fell, and her hair pooled around her head, and her breathing slowed. Her clothes were beautiful silk and bloodstains, and her posture, even when fallen, was an assassin.

Had he failed her, somehow?

But this was not his sister.

When he finally took the bullet out and put a washcloth on her head, she cried out his name. Her eyes were dark, and they reminded him of something.


End file.
